Pulling You Back To Your Feet
by wingedflower
Summary: During a rescue mission on a planet rocked with earthquakes, Lance's leg gets trapped under a collapsed pole. The team needs to make some tough decisions if they want to get out of there alive.


**This fic contains an amputation scene. There is blood, gore and vomiting, and overall, it's not pretty (although no one dies, don't worry). If any of these thing triggers you in any way, please read at your own risk.**

* * *

"Paladins, the seismic readings from this planet are getting less and less steady!" Coran's voice pierced the comms. He sounded much like someone who is trying very hard to swallow down panic. "You don't have much time! What is your status?"

"Still trying to figure this out, Coran," Shiro replied through gritted teeth.

"Well, you better do that in the next few dobashes, or the ground will literally swallow you whole."

"Come on, guys," Lance murmured, his voice tired and distant, as if he had no energy left. "You heard the old man. It's getting more dangerous here by the second. Get out as long as you can."

"Right, and leave you behind?" Pidge deadpanned. "Sorry, not happening."

"Are you seriously expecting me to tell Veronica that I left you to die in an earthquake?" Hunk said, squeezing Lance's hand – the hand he's been holding for over an hour now. "She's a Garrison _officer_, dude. I am _not _messing with her."

Lance laughed shakily – or perhaps it was a sob, it was hard to tell considering his face was still contorted in a mix of fear and pain. "But how? We've been over this, there is no way to get this thing off me without turning us all into pancakes."

Well, nobody could argue with that.

It all started about two vargas ago, when the castle got a distress call from a nearby planet – one of the smaller, less inhabitant ones (smaller than Earth's moon). Although the chance to encounter a Galra fleet in such an insignificant place was low – the empire usually saved its resources for more valuable targets – the paladins had still worn their armors and landed there with their lions, always favoring safe over sorry.

It had turned out the several dozens of aliens who lived there – it was a moon colony, sent there a deca-phoeb ago from a nearby, much bigger planet for research purposes – had been caught in a series of violent earthquakes. It had already destroyed most of their facilities and equipment – including a hangar where the escape pods had been stored – before the paladins came. Contacting their home planet had been impossible due to the collapse of the communication center, so other than Voltron, they did not have any means of rescue.

At first they thought it would be an easy operation. All of the research team had fit inside the Yellow Lion, and they had been ready to fly back to the castle – when a quick head count revealed two crew members were missing.

One of the scientists had gasped in fear upon hearing the news, recalling that two of them had gone to the building where the ruined communication room was to try and retrieve some old transmitters stored in another room, in hopes at least one of them was functional enough to call their home planet. They could have gotten trapped between the ruins, as the earth had quaked several more times since then, causing more destruction.

Well, it was no question at all – of course the paladins were going to go to that building and rescue them (Hunk had also joined after a quick trip to the castle, where he had dropped the rest of the crew). They had left their lions behind as those things were way too big to fit in, and hoped their bayards and jetpacks would do.

The building had turned out to be only half-demolished: some rooms (like the comm room) had turned into nothing but a mess of broken walls and debris while other rooms were still standing, and the corridors had been mostly clear. Pidge's biological scanner had soon detected the two missing aliens, who were thankfully unhurt but trapped behind a pile of wreckage too high and heavy for them to remove or climb on with their short limbs.

After warning the couple to get as far from the pile as they could, it had only taken two or three shots from Hunk's cannon to make the pile low enough for the aliens to climb on and join the paladins on the other side of the room. However, while one of them was more than eager to get out of there, his friend seemed to be in some kind of shock, staring wide-eyed at the long corridor they had to cross on their way out and refusing to move a muscle.

"Come on, we don't have much time!" Keith, patient as always, flared. "Do you _want _to die here or what?"

"Easy there, mister sensitive," Lance shot him a glare before kneeling in front of the alien, his face softening. This alien seemed younger than the rest of the expedition – probably an intern or the child of one of the older members – and was clearly scared to the bone (assuming this race had bones at all).

"Hey, buddy," Lance said in a voice he must have used with a younger sibling more than once in his life. "Look, I know this situation is really scary and dangerous, but we are going to make sure we all walk out of here alive, okay? You just need to trust us. Do you have a family back in your planet? Parents or siblings?"

The alien, though still paralyzed with terror, managed a slow nod.

"Then you have to remain strong, so you all get to see each other again," Lance said. "Just for a little longer. Do you think you can do that? For your family?"

The alien stared at him for a few more seconds, then lowered his gaze to the floor, reaching out shakily for one of Lance's hands.

Lance chuckled. "Sure, we can hold hands on the way if you want. Alright, let's get going before – "

A loud rumbling sound roared around them and the whole building shook violently as another wave of quakes hit the planet.

A foreboding _creak _was heard as one of the poles supporting the ceiling started to pitch to the side in a dangerous angle…

Lance barely managed to push the young alien out of the way before a sound like an explosion was heard and everyone's eyesight was filled with dust.

Once the dust settled down, the rest of the paladins – all coughing and struggling back to a stand, but unscathed nonetheless - rushed to Lance's side, screaming his name and tapping on his dirty cheeks to wake him up.

Lance groaned, opening his eyes to a silver. "What the – " he choked as his whole body was wrecked with coughs, his head thrown forward as he tried to catch his breath.

It was then when he saw where the pole had fallen. His eyes rounded. "_Quiznak._"

The others turned to look as well.

Quiznak indeed.

The pole seemed to have smashed into another pole when it fell, though it had not caused it to collapse completely – part of it remained intact with the ceiling while its lower half had broken into several large pieces, some of them scattered on the floor – thankfully, far from them – and some held in place only by the first pole, which lay horizontally on the ground.

And trapped Lance's leg under it, just from his left knee down.

And none of the paladins had the ability to remove it.

The pole was too massive for them to lift with their arms – even the combination of Hunk and Shiro's stamina was far from enough – and none of their bayards could transform into a crane or something of that sort.

Using the lions was impossible, because there were several floors above this room and there was no way for a lion to penetrate all these ceilings without causing massive wreckage that would bury them all alive.

They could try and blast the pole away with Lance or Hunk's bayards. However, unlike the pile of debris Hunk had shot earlier, this pole was pretty much the only support the other, half-collapsed pole had, and there was a solid chance the shockwave would bring down the whole ceiling on their heads before they managed to escape.

To sum up, they were stuck. In Lance's case, _literally_ stuck.

So this was how they had spent the past varga (save for Pidge and Hunk, who had taken a short break to escort both aliens back to safety and then returned to help): trying to figure out how to pull Lance from beneath that pole without causing another avalanche, while praying there wouldn't be another earthquake that would solve the problem for them.

So far, they didn't have too much success in the "figuring out" part.

And judging by the urgency in Coran's voice, soon the praying part would also be pointless.

"Shiro…" Keith started, clenching his palms into fists as he was unable to finish the sentence.

But Shiro understood what he wanted to say.

And judging by Hunk and Pidge's pale, scared faces, they understood as well.

Shiro sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as if that could make this horrible situation go away.

Sometimes he really, _really_ hated being the adult in the room.

He opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to the boy lying at his knees. "There is one thing we can do," he said grimly. "I wish we didn't have to… but it seems like the only option we have."

Tears welled in Lance's blue eyes. He tried to hold them back with little success, and soon they streamed down his dust-covered cheeks, leaving glimmering trails behind. "Yeah, I figured that out a while ago…" he shuddered. "I-I just hoped we'd find another way somehow. Guess… this isn't my lucky day."

Pidge sniffled and looked away.

"At least this isn't my _right _leg," Lance continued. "That would've been so… quiznakin'_ ironic_," his voice broke at the last word and he closed his eyes against newfound tears.

Hunk choked on a sob and brought his friend's hand to his chest. "Gosh, Lance, I'm sorry. I'm so, _so _sorry."

"Not your fault," Lance sighed. "There… there probably isn't much to save anyway, at this point." Shiro's heart clenched at the realization of this sad truth.

"I know. But this still sucks." Hunk said while wiping his eyes with his other hand.

"It sucks _balls_," Pidge said thickly, her glasses stained with tears she didn't even bother to hide. "But we're going to make you the _best _leg ever. Just wait and see. We're going to utilize all this amazing Altean technology and make you a prosthetics out of this universe. It'll be even cooler than Shiro's arm."

Lance managed a tight smile. "C'mon, that's not fair to Shiro."

"Hey, I'm good," Shiro patted Lance's scalp gently.

"Can you…" Lance stopped as his lip started to tremble, and took several shallow breaths. "Can you make it blue? Or-or blue and white? To fit my armor?"

"Sure, man," Hunk said. "We can make it any color you want."

"And can you make it shoot lasers?"

"Why would you want to shoot lasers from your _leg_?" Keith blurted out, then flinched as if not entirely sure whether his question was in place.

Lance shrugged. "Dunno. It sounds cool."

Keith huffed out a laugh and brought his hand to his hair, pulling disheveled bangs away from his forehead. "You're an idiot."

Everyone chuckled as the atmosphere finally lightened up a bit, and they would have been glad to relish this comic relief for longer if the ground hadn't decided to give yet another quake, making the walls screech as a bunch of small rocks and dusty puffs rolled off them.

Lance's eyes widened and he gasped, all traces of amusement gone from his face and replaced with sheer terror. "Please get this over with, I don't want to die here, please, _please_," he wheezed.

"Shh, buddy, no one's going to die," Shiro said in the most soothing voice he could master, even though his heart broke at the panic reflected in the young paladin's face, both from the possibility of the room collapsing on them at any moment and the ordeal he knew was waiting for him.

He was almost willing to switch places with him.

"Pidge," he turned to look at the youngest paladin, who had gone about five shades paler after watching Lance lose his calm. "Can you please go back to your lion and update Allura and Coran about the situation? And tell them to have a pod prepared?"

"But…" Pidge started, then bit her lip. She was clearly torn between following Shiro's orders and staying at Lance's side.

"They need to know we're coming," Shiro continued. _And a girl who's barely turned fifteen does not need to see her friend's leg getting amputated. _"And besides, it will be better if someone is with the lions, watching from outside just in case anything goes wrong. Not that anything willgo wrong," he added quickly as he felt Lance shudder again.

Pidge stared at him with pursed lips for a moment, then sighed and nodded. "OK. I'll go update the castle." She went to Lance's side that wasn't occupied by Hunk and took his other hand, squeezing it as well. "It's going to be okay," she said softly.

"Yeah," Lance whispered and tried to squeeze back, though he barely managed to curl his fingers with how exhausted he was.

Pidge smiled shakily and put his hand gently back on the ground, then got to her feet and jogged out of the room, already activating her comms to report to the castle.

Shiro let out a long breath before speaking again. "Lance," he said, trying very hard to stop his voice from wavering. "I'm afraid we don't have anything to knock you out. I'd hit you on the back of your neck, but with you trapped in that position, I doubt you can sit high enough for this to work." He hated how practical he sounded, planning his friend's amputation as if he was planning an attack on a Galra base.

Lance sighed. "Well, at least give me something to hold in my mouth so I won't bite my tongue."

"You can bite on my Marmora blade," Keith offered, already reaching for the back of his armor to unsheathe it.

Lance scrunched his nose. "You don't cut your hair with it, do you? I don't want any pieces of mullet in my mouth."

"Seriously?" Keith grumbled, but Shiro gave him a look, hoping to clarify it was best to let Lance make jokes as long as he was able to.

Keith seemed to get the message, though he still gave quite an eyeroll. "No, I don't cut my hair with it. And I polish it every night."

"Good enough for me," Lance said flatly.

"I'm sorry, but how are we going to…" Hunk's voice wavered as he turned green mid-sentence.

Shiro raised his Galra arm. "This should do the job."

"Are you sure?" Keith eyed him worriedly while Hunk looked even more queasy. "Don't you think it'll be a little… I don't know, too hard on you?"

Shiro smiled warmly at him, appreciating how intuitive and caring his adopted brother was, despite his efforts to hide this side of his from others. "Thanks, Keith, but I can handle it." _Besides, it will be much, much worse for Lance._

"So… Keith and I will hold him down while you…?" Hunk continued with effort, his headband already sticky with sweat. The poor guy was terrified, and while Shiro would have gladly spared him the trauma like he had spared Pidge, he knew Keith would not be able to handle Lance alone while Shiro's arm sawed through the blue paladin's flesh and bones.

Shiro nodded. "Yes, that'll be great. You hold his other leg and stomach, and Keith, you hold his shoulders".

Hunk took a deep breath through his nose, then positioned himself so one of his arms was pressing Lance's right thigh down and the other arm spread across his stomach, pinning him to the floor. He still looked utterly freaked out, but his arms were strong and steady. Keith switched places with Shiro, and placed his palms on top of Lance's shoulders while the older boy came to kneel in front of Lance's left leg.

Upon examining the trapped limb, Shiro actually felt relieved at the fact Lance would get to keep his kneecap, as the pole had him pinned only from the shin down. Small comforts and all.

He activated his Galra arm and looked at Lance, whose pallor was less evident now under the purple glow – not that he looked any less frightened. Shiro could only pray the pain would knock him unconscious as soon as possible.

"Once I'm done, I'm going to use my arm to cauterize the wound, so you won't lose too much blood until we reach the castle," he explained, trying very hard not to gag at the thought of. "It's… it's going to hurt pretty bad."

Lance snorted humorlessly. "Well, good to know that if the pain from having my leg chopped off won't kill me, there's more pain to come and try again." He looked at Keith. "Give me that blade."

"Oh. Right." Keith reached again for his luxite blade and handed it to Lance, who caught it carefully between his teeth.

"Alright," Shiro braced himself on the ground, lowering his arm so it was hovering just a few inches above Lance's shin. "I'm going to count to three."

Lance closed his eyes in silent acceptance as more tears rolled down his cheeks, dripping on the handle of the luxite blade. Hunk whimpered and turned his face away, although his grip on Lance remained strong. Keith, on the other hand, stared wide-eyed at Shiro's arm as if hypnotized by it.

Shiro hoped none of them would go into shock before they were done.

He also hoped for the ground not to decide to collapse under their feet in this particular moment.

And for Lance to not die before they reach the castle.

"One," Shiro tried to say with emphasis, but his mouth was completely dry and it came out more like a croak. He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. "Two…"

Lance moaned, biting so hard on the blade his teeth grated.

"_Three_." And Shiro lowered his arm to make contact with Lance's armor.

But he never got further than that.

The scenery in front of him changed at once. He was no longer kneeling in that crumbling room, trying to work on Lance's leg. Instead, he found himself face to face with a dark, hooded figure, who gave a cruel, twisted grin as a line of purple lights lit up behind it, hurting Shiro's eyes.

A grating, wicked laugh was heard then, and Shiro flinched. At first he thought it was coming from the hooded creature, but its mouth didn't even move. No, it was coming from _everywhere – _it echoed all around the room, filling Shiro's ears, his mind, his _soul…_

A sharp pain ran across his right arm like lightning – it burned, it burned _so much_, and they just kept _laughing_, indulging in his pain, it was all just a show to them, oh god it hurt it hurt it _hurt _someone make it stop and let him pass out already _please _-

"_Shiro!_"

Shiro gasped, eyes flinging open – just when did he close them? – and found himself sprawled on the ground, Hunk cowering in front of him with his arms stretched forward, looking even more panicked than before – and regretful.

"Sorry man – but you were shaking pretty bad and I didn't want you to accidently – " he stammered.

Shiro simply stared at him for a while, mouth agape. His face was clammy with cold sweat. He turned to examine his right arm, which had already turned back into cold metal, but still throbbed weakly with the distant memory of his flashback.

He…

He almost –

Shiro bolted upright, hands gripping his sweaty hair, and stared at the floor in horror. "I… I…" Bile rose in his throat and he struggled to swallow it back. His heart was pounding so fast it hurt his chest.

"It's not your fault," Keith said carefully, though he didn't move from his position behind Lance's head.

Lance…

Shiro shuffled back to his friends, still feeling shaken and unstable, as if somebody had popped and loosened all the joints in his body. "I'm sorry," he panted. "Lance, I – I'm so sorry…"

Lance made a muffled sound – the blade was still stuck in his mouth. Keith got the clue and removed it right away. "Don't apologize," Lance rasped. His cheeks were stained with tears, but he managed to give Shiro a shaky smile nonetheless. "I get it."

Of course Lance didn't blame him. That guy never blamed anyone but himself, which only made Shiro feel worse. He shook his head. "You needed me and I failed you," he said lamely.

Lance's fingers twitched as he brought them to brush Shiro's prosthetic ones. "Being human does not mean you're failing me," he said, and there was such sincerity behind the pain and exhaustion in his voice it made Shiro's eyes burn. But the last thing Lance needed right now was for his leader to have another breakdown, so he took Lance's hand in his flesh one and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I'll do it." For a second Shiro wasn't sure he heard right. But then he looked at the red paladin and was nearly taken aback by the sheer determination in his eyes – even though his face remained as white as a sheet.

"My bayard turns into a sword," Keith continued. "And judging from experience…" he stopped for a brief moment, composing himself. "It's – it's supposed to be sharp enough to do it in one thrust, even with the armor and all."

Shiro's ears were ringing. No. _No. _This was so wrong. Keith was way too young for this. He had already been through enough in this war, his soul definitely did not need _another_ scar.

They were all so young. They didn't deserve any of this.

But right now, all they had was each other, and that would have to do.

Shiro sighed. "Alright. I trust you. Lance?"

Lance's eyes flattered shut again. He looked absolutely worn out, and Shiro wished he could just fall asleep until he was put in a pod. "Just… do it already," he said in a small, defeated voice. The tiny bit of courage he had managed to summon to comfort Shiro seemed to have already waned.

Shiro moved to crouch behind Lance's head while Hunk returned to put pressure on his lower body. Keith rose to a stand and summoned his bayard as he walked to where Lance's left leg was trapped, his own legs stiff and his grip on the sword so tight Shiro could almost see his knuckles whiten under the gloves.

Shiro brushed his fingers through Lance's hair, hoping to give the boy some comfort, then placed the luxite blade back between his teeth, which Lance accepted with a weak groan. Then he planted his palms on Lance's shoulders, careful not to crush his armor with his prosthetic.

"I'm going to count to three again," Shiro announced and focused his gaze on Lance's face. "One, two – "

Whether it was the urge to finish it as quickly as possible or because he didn't want to give Lance the chance to try and squirm away, Keith did not wait for 'three'.

There was a sickening sound of _slashing_, one terrible second of silence – it felt like a hundred years – and then Lance _screamed._

Now, Shiro had heard people – and aliens – screaming in agony during his year of captivity. Most of the times he heard them at the arena, after they had been thrown inside and had their stomach impaled or limbs chopped off before they even managed to get into a fighting position. Sometimes it was at the prisoners' cells, when an injury or sickness left unattended – which was usually how the Galra treated their prisoners – left its occupant moaning and weeping and _begging, _first for help, then for water, and eventually, for someone to put them out of their misery. Not to mention all the prisoners whose bodies may have been whole but their souls broken, whose homes had been destroyed, who had their children snatched out of their arm; most of them would spend their first days at the camp expressing their grief as vocally as possible, as if thinking someone out there would hear their call and come to their rescue. All of them would grow silent at some point – whether from despair or because the Galra had lost their patience and decided to shut them up – but there were always new voices to take their place in the choir of pain and despair that filled Shiro's ears day and night.

The sound – as well as the sight – of misery was no stranger to him.

And yet, he knew that Lance's wail when his leg was amputated would come back and hunt him for a long, long time.

It was somewhat muffled by the blade in his mouth, but it made everyone's ears ring nonetheless. Shiro felt the boy writhe under his weight as he screamed bloody murder, his back arching in aguish, and pressed harder on his shoulders to immobilize him – the last thing they needed was him accidently kicking the already-crumbling pole with his free leg, and judging by Hunk's grunts as he flattened himself further over Lance's torso and thighs, the yellow paladin had the exact same thought.

"Shhh, It's okay, it's okay, you're okay," Shiro murmured feverishly, not daring to tear his eyes away from Lance's. The ocean-blue orbs, now wide open and glazed, stared right into his, although Shiro knew they were probably not seeing him at all at the moment. And then Lance's head shot up all of a sudden – could have been a reflex – and Shiro had to move one of his hands and press the boy's forehead down to avoid getting headbutted. He ran his fingers through Lance's bangs again to calm him down, even though he knew it was probably pointless.

"Keith?" he cried out.

"I… I think that did it," Keith said, voice thin as paper. He sounded like he wanted to throw up. "I-I felt the blade hit the floor… try pulling him away now."

Shiro complied, praying with all his might Lance's shin was no longer attached to him as he grabbed him by the armpits and pulled. To his immense relief – and it was just so surreal, to feel any relief at all in this situation – he managed to drag Lance easily several feet away from the pole, which sighed dangerously as the weight was removed from beneath it, but luckily did not move.

Lance's eyes rolled backwards and he went silent, and Shiro wasted no time getting up and approaching his left leg – or, what was left of it, as the armor now ended a few inches below the knee, dark-crimson blood already pooling under it.

"Keep holding him, Hunk," Shiro barked and activated his Galra arm once again. Then, without giving himself the chance to get distracted – he was vaguely aware of Keith still standing by the pole, staring at nothing as his bayard vanished, but he would have to deal with that later – he slammed his palm against Lance's kneecap, feeling the flesh twist and bubble as the heat sealed off every torn blood vessel and forced the skin to pull and close over the cut. Lance's body jerked and twitched under his touch, but it was weaker than before, as the boy had apparently passed out a while ago and the pain was purely subconscious at this point.

The sizzling sound and the potent smell of burnt flesh brought back up the nausea from before with vengeance, so Shiro forced himself to breathe through his mouth, knowing he had to finish the job to ensure Lance wouldn't bleed out on their way back.

Once he was certain the bleeding has stopped, he deactivated his arm and drooped in his place, exhausted as if he'd just finished a training session. Hunk, who truly deserved an award for his endurance so far, let go of Lance and scrambled backwards, where he finally lost the contents of his stomach on the floor.

Shiro crawled back to the unconscious paladin and gently took the blade out of his mouth, which remained open and slack. Then, he collected Lance in his arms and cried into his sweaty, dirty hair.

"I'm sorry," he wept, hiccupping every now and then. His tears mixed with Lance's, now drying on his cheeks. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

He cried for Lance for having a piece of him taken away forever. He cried for himself and the other paladins, who had to go through this with him. He cried for all the kind, brave, young people who paid much too high a cost for only trying to help others.

"K-Keith?" he heard Hunk say weakly. The bulky boy stood up with effort – he was sweating and shivering as if he had the flu – and staggered towards Keith, who was so still one could mistake him for a pole himself. "Keith, come on, talk to me."

Keith blinked owlishly, staring at Hunk as if seeing him for the first time. Shiro was pretty sure he was in shock. He wanted nothing more than to run there and hug him, but he couldn't let Lance go right now.

"I…" Keith's voice died down. He stared at his hand – the one that held the bayard a minute ago – and then back at Hunk, puzzled.

"It's over," Hunk said softly and took Keith's hand in his. Shiro noticed he was doing his best to focus on Keith and not on the bloody mess under their feet. "We can finally go now. Actually," his voice went higher as the earth gave another minor quake, "We _have _to go now." And he all but dragged Keith along with him, guiding him out of the room like a mother walking her child to school. Shiro silently thanked him for his constant over-worrying for his friends, even at stressful situations as this.

He pulled himself to a stand, hoisting Lance into a fireman carry – the boy didn't make a sound – and followed Hunk and Keith, turning on his comm. "Pidge, we're on our way," he said.

"Is it over?" Pidge answered immediately, her tone anxious. "Did you…?" he could hear her gulp.

"Yes," he said tiredly. His body felt like lead, let alone with Lance's weight.

She released a long breath. "Fuck," she said eventually. "Poor Lance."

"I know. But he'll get better. We're all going to get through this together."

"Well, for now just focus on coming back alive. I think this building is going to collapse any moment now."

Her prediction turned out to be true when several minutes later, as Shiro carefully leaned Lance against the wall of Black's cockpit – the boy was still out cold, and Shiro assumed it was for the best – he heard a distant rumbling sound. He peeked through the window just in time to witness the building they had just come out of collapse into itself in a gigantic cloud of dirt.

"Holy crap," Hunk panted in the comms. "That was _way _tooclose."

Shiro wanted to agree, but the words got stuck in his throat as he laid his eyes on the _nothingness _below Lance's left knee. "Is everyone ready to go?" he asked instead. "Hunk, don't forget to help me tow Blue back, since she doesn't have a pilot right now."

"No problem," Hunk said. "How's Lance?"

"Still out, but I'm keeping an eye on him, don't worry."

"Let's get the fuck out of here then," Pidge muttered. "This planet makes me sick."

"Keith? How are you?" Shiro's heart fluttered anxiously at the possibility Keith has yet to pull himself together – they really didn't have the time or the ability to carry _two _pilotless lions back to the castle. However, to his immense relief, the red paladin answered almost instantly. "I'm here," he said, voice quiet and somewhat raw. "Let's go."

Shiro switched his comm to a private channel. "Are you sure you can pilot?" he asked Keith gently.

"Yes. Red… Red said she'd help."

Warmth filled Shiro at the strong connection between Voltron's most ferocious lion and her paladin. "Alright, I'm counting on you both. But we're going to talk later, okay?"

"If you want to," Keith said idly.

Shiro waited several minutes – just until they were all airborne and set a route back to the castle – to speak to Keith again. "You did good, Keith. I'm very, very proud of you."

There was a short silence during which Shiro could imagine Keith chew the inside of his cheek, as he did when he was doubting himself. "I hurt him so much, Shiro. What if he… associates me with that pain from now on?"

"It's going to be a long ride to recovery," Shiro said, "But I am sure of one thing: Lance will never, _ever _blame you for this. Without you, there is a solid chance we would've still been in that building when it collapsed. Lance owes you his _life_, Keith."

Keith sighed. "I just wish it wouldn't have ended with him… you know."

"Me too. But accidents happen, and since there's nothing we can do about it, we must move forward from here. Lance is going to need all of us to be strong, so he can be strong too."

Another silence. Then, Keith said, "Thanks, Shiro. I'm… I'm really glad we all got out of there alive."

"That's the spirit, buddy." Shiro turned to look at Lance again, who was still lying unconscious on the cockpit's floor, face so still and relaxed one could have thought he was just taking a nap. But Shiro knew, with heavy heart, that the real battle would begin once the blue paladin opened his eyes again and learned how to live in a world where a part of him was missing forever.

But, like he told Keith, Shiro knew that together, his family was strong enough to complete that missing part. As long as they were whole, Lance would be as well.

He has held up Voltron as one of its legs for so long; now it was time for Voltron to return the favor.

* * *

**I might do a recovery-centered sequel to it but I don't know yet.**

**If you enjoyed it, please review! I love feedback!**


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